


Before the Fall

by svensksapphic



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Other, Sauntering Vaguely Downwards (Good Omens), Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), armageddidn’t, aziraphale remembering before the fall, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-09-18 23:13:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20321107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svensksapphic/pseuds/svensksapphic
Summary: After the apocalypse-that-didn't, Aziraphale begins to regain vague memories of heaven before the Fall and decides to ask Crowley about it. Nothing bad could happen... right?





	1. Sauntering

10 days had passed since the averted apocalypse AKA ‘armageddidn’t’, ‘almostageddon’, ‘abotchacalypse’, ‘nonpocalypse’ or whatever you wanted to call it. Somehow Aziraphale and Crowley had resumed their routine consisting of lunch at the Ritz, feeding ducks and getting smashed in the back room of Aziraphale’s bookshop. However, Crowley had noticed a general sense of caution radiating from Aziraphale, which he had dismissed as post-apocalyptic concern. What else could it be?

“Crowley?”

“Yes, Angel.” Crowley replied.

“Do you remember...?” Aziraphale hesitated.

“...mmm?”

“Do you remember... anything before you fell?”

Crowley sighed, “I didn’t fall I-“

“Oh yes how could I forget? Before you sAuNtErEd vAgUeLy dOwNwArDs.” Aziraphale jokingly interrupted Crowley’s expected tangent.

Crowley playfully pouted, “Angel, I don’t appreciate that tone.”

He raised his eyebrows and said in a soft and careful manner, “well? Do you?”

Crowley sat up from his reclined position on Aziraphale’s sofa and took off his dark glasses, allowing the angel to see his glowing amber eyes. They looked pained, although he could tell the demon was trying to hide the vulnerability that arose from this topic. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Aziraphale, I can guarantee you that I remember more than you do, much to my dismay.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Whatever do you mean by that, dear?”

“Well, heaven would’ve removed any of your pre-fall memories yes? They wouldn’t want any devoted angels questioning whether certain fallen angels deserved to fall, would they?” He bitterly smirked, all former playfulness gone from his face.

Aziraphale placed his hands around the demon’s, “Crowley, I’ve always wanted to remember. But whenever I try all I can grasp are doctored images, as if fog has been placed between myself and those who fell. But um… lately I’ve been… remembering? Well, maybe remembering is an exaggeration. More, the fog is beginning to clear.”

Crowley looked up from their intertwined hands and locked his gaze with Aziraphale, his slitted eyes full of caution. “Why are you telling me this?”

Aziraphale knew this conversation could take a sudden turn for the worse, and softened his voice significantly. “I’ve been remembering more about the Archangel, Raphael.”

Crowley withdrew from Aziraphale’s touch, suddenly standing up. He shook his head, “it’s late I should be heading off.”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale started, but it was too late. Crowley had already opened the front door and allowed it to slam behind him. (Drama queen)

Aziraphale felt dejected, he hadn’t quite handled that well.

He sighed, “that went down like a lead balloon.”


	2. Remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale stumbles upon some material that will change everything, will this end well?

_2 Days Ago…_

At first he had dismissed it as a daydream. A warm, comforting light had encompassed him that could only be the old heaven. The heaven before evil, before humankind and before the antichrist. In the distance he could see blinding red hair, long and flowing. It reminded him of Crowley’s when they had first met. He found himself slowly walking towards the mysterious figure. He had never seen this angel before. He thought he knew all the angels. Then the angel turned around, amber eyes glowing and red hair falling over his shoulders. 

He smiled, “Aziraphale, you are quite late my friend.”

Suddenly the light faded and Aziraphale found himself once again in his bookshop. He blinked, not knowing what had just happened.  
He frowned, only one thought seemed to rise above his endless confusion. “Crowley?” He muttered.

Before he could stop himself, Aziraphale found his encyclopaedia of angels that was printed in the 16th century. Archangels, okay who has red hair? _Gabriel, no, Michael, no, Uriel, no…_ He flicked through, the memory sparking some unconscious knowledge within him.

“Goodness!” He exclaimed. 

There he was. Blinding red hair, amber eyes. It was him. Raphael. 

“He couldn’t…” Aziraphale muttered. But he could. Aziraphale had never bothered questioning Crowley’s angel name. It was pointless, all it would result in was pain and fracturing of their complex relationship. But the angel couldn’t help but ponder as to whether Crowley was, in fact, the archangel Raphael. Raphael had mysteriously disappeared after the fall, but no one dared say he had fallen lest he return and bring his powerful rage against them. He was an archangel after all, how could She allow an archangel to be lost to Lucifer?

_Well, Aziraphale. It is time to unleash your inner Sherlock and solve this case. _He thought to himself. 

As if She found this highly amusing, Crowley sauntered into the bookshop with impeccable timing, startling Aziraphale in the process who let out a small frightened gasp.

Crowley raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Everything okay, Angel?”

Aziraphale slammed the book shut and miracled it back into its rightful place in the bookshelf. “Oh, yes dear! Everything is fine! Just tickety-boo, all 100% a-okay!” He rambled.

Crowley studied Aziraphale’s face, concern becoming apparent over Aziraphale’s strange behaviour. “You’re acting rather strange… does it have something to do with that book?” He questioned.

_Oh dear, what do I say? Goodness I am in deep trouble…_ He thought. “Uhhhh yes I just found out that… uhhhhhh…. DUCKS HAVE EARS! What a shock!”

Crowley stiffened, “What?! Then how come they never respond to me, Angel? Bastards!”

Aziraphale smiled, that seemed to do the trick. _Crisis averted, for now._ He internally sighed in relief. But, how long could he hide this from Crowley?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested, I've started to post some Good Omens fanart on my instagram @svensksapphic  
Feel free to check it out if you'd like <3


	3. Drama Queens are High Maintenance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I had writers block but I think this is okay so... sorry??

_3 days after ‘the question’…_

He had royally fucked up. He didn’t mean to leave so suddenly. It all just happened too fast; one moment he was half asleep in Aziraphale’s bookshop, the next moment that name causes his eyes to lose sight for a moment for his whole body to turn feverish. 

“I hope I haven’t upset him…” Crowley muttered to himself, lying on his wrinkled sheets that had felt his presence for a good three days.  
He didn’t blame his angel, who wouldn’t be curious about that archangel’s sudden and mysterious disappearance? It was alluring and fascinating that one of the most respectable archangels went missing the day of the fall. Surely they would have connected the dots by now. He’d expected the ever-curious Aziraphale to ponder what truly happened. What he didn’t expect was his blunt, courageous question. Not only was he severely underprepared to hear it, he had no prepared answer either. What was the demon meant to say?

_Oh yeah, the powerful archangel *fucking* Raphael is not truly missing, no. He actually fell and became the sexy, slutty, and incompetent demon you happen to be sharing a bottle of wine with. _ He chucked, imagine if that had of been his response.

Crowley, a creature of habit and drama, decided to take a 3 day nap. It would’ve surpassed his century long nap if only a rude neighbour hadn’t of harassed his door complaining about all the Queen he played 24/7. Don’t judge, Queen suits every form of crisis. The demon would’ve continued to wallow in his self pity, when he was very inconsiderately interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. To make it worse, his phone next to him was blank. _Shit!_ Crowley thought. Not only did he have to return to reality, but he had to get out of bed as well? _The things I put up with, he’s getting a strict talking to. _

Lazily sauntering over to his telephone, Crowley pictured his angel at this moment. He must be feeling awful. 

He picked up the phone, “Mmmm’ello?” Crowley tiredly mumbled.

He heard a soft gasp, “Crowley! Hello dear I’ve been worrying about you! How are you? Still alive? Not discorporated by your former side? Oh dear are you quite alright, dear?”

Crowley grunted. “Sss’fine”

Now, Crowley had only seen Aziraphale truly angry twice during his 6000 years on this earth. The first had been when the library of Alexandria had burned down, and the other was when Crowley had accidentally spilt whiskey on the angel’s pristine (first edition) copy of Oscar Wilde’s, The Picture of Dorian Gray. This was much, much worse.

“HOW DARE YOU? I thought they had come for you! I knew things had been too easy and when I didn’t hear from you in 3 DAYS I became almost frantic. I know you’re a DRAMA QUEEN, Crowley, but must you torture me so?! It’s extremely SELFISH, especially after everything we have been through TOGETHER!” Aziraphale sighed and paused for a second. Crowley could almost hear the quick thump of Aziraphale’s heart, or perhaps it was his own. He couldn’t differentiate between the two anymore. “Crowley, my dear, I know you’re going through something but I need you to be careful okay? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I… if I caused you harm in anyway…” 

Crowley stiffened, he almost sounded like he was on the verge of tears. His heart sank. He had been selfish, it wasn’t fair to angel. “Yeah, okay…” Was all he could get out in this moment.

“Okay what?”

He let out an exhausted breath, “I was selfish, I’m sorry Aziraphale. I just.. I didn’t... ah.. ngk.” The line was silent for almost a minute, Aziraphale staying silent and patiently waiting for Crowley to finish. “I just couldn’t face the truth. I hadn’t thought about all that for, for 6000 years…”

“I understand, Crowley. I think this is a conversation to be had over as you might put it, extraordinary amounts of alcohol.” Aziraphale teased.

The demon let himself smile, no one could see him after all. “I’ll be there in 10.”

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter might have a minuscule amount of angst but not a lot because I hate ineffable husband angst.


End file.
